


I'll be around

by ThunderFrost2012



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I can't spoil too much, Introspection, Just read to find out, Open to Interpretation, Sort Of, What-If, ghost!Killgrave, right after episode 2x11, three lives and counting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderFrost2012/pseuds/ThunderFrost2012
Summary: “I’ll be around, if you need me.”What if Jessica needed him?Will Killgrave keep his word?from the story:*[...]“You gave a meaning to my days. Hunting you… hoping to see you rotting in jail… our banters… I miss that. Being focused on hating you made me not think about the rest. I loved hating you.” the detective admitted.He stared at her so deeply he could almost see her soul.“Oh no, it’s different, my darling: you hate the fact that you love me!”Jessica opened her eyes wide, unable to utter a single word to strike back.What if he was right? After all, he was a projection of her mind. Her mind couldn’t lie to her. That was a job her heart already did flawlessly.“I miss you. I do fucking miss you, Kevin. Are you happy, now?”[...] *IMPORTANT: this is a HUGE SPOILER in case you haven’t seen Season 2, so, please, read it only if you do or at least if you have seen the episode 2x11.I wrote it for an Italian Halloween challenge (although it’s not a Halloween fanfic) that uses these prompts:- Voices in your head- “Have you ever killed someone?”- “If you kill yourself you’ll reach me.”- The touch of a hand on your shoulder
Relationships: Jesica Jones/Killgrave, Jessica Jones/Kevin Thompson, Jessica Jones/Zebediah Killgrave
Comments: 13
Kudos: 12





	I'll be around

**Author's Note:**

> not betaed and English is not my native language, sorry.
> 
> IMPORTANT: this is a HUGE SPOILER in case you haven’t seen Season 2, so, please, read it only if you do or at least if you have seen the episode 2x11.
> 
> I wrote it for an Italian Halloween challenge (although it’s not a Halloween fanfic) that uses these prompts:
> 
> \- Voices in your head  
> \- “Have you ever killed someone?”  
> \- “If you kill yourself you’ll reach me.”  
> \- The touch of a hand on your shoulder

  
[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

  
  


_I ’ll be around, if you need me._  
  
These were the exact words that Killgrave, his ghost, Jessica’s delusion, the voices in her head or whatever he/it was, had said before fading away.  
  
And, might Heaven have mercy on her, when the day after Jessica had woken up and hadn’t found him there to torment her anymore, well.. she had been upset.  


And it had been the same the next day.  
  
After all, Jessica felt as if her world was falling to pieces, bit by bit: her sister was in hospital, struggling between life and death, after a decision she had willingly taken in a moment of deep desperation, her mother had escaped from jail and Jessica had no idea where she was and what damage she could do, nor if she’d ever see her again, on top of that, after a harsh argue, she had pushed away even Malcolm, the only guy she could almost consider a good friend.  
  
“If everyone abandons me, no wonder you did, too!” she had screamed during the third day, in the wind, all alone in her flat.  
  
“What? Do I have to kill someone else to see you again?” she had joked at the end of the fourth day.  
  
And he had laughed, but she couldn’t know that.  
  
“‘I’ll be around if you need me’” she had mocked his British accent the fifth night, as she drank from a bottle of cheap alcohol, her mind too blurry to find some clues that led to her mother.  


“Well, I do fucking need you and you’re not here!” she yelled, furious, smashing the still half-full bottle against the wall. It ended up drawing a very little aesthetic stain.   
  
“You’re a dirty liar, as bastard as every fucking man!” she growled, holding her head in her hands, desperate, her elbows resting on the desk, her gaze facing the floor.  
  
That was before she heard that voice again.  


“Hey, hey, watch your language. Plus, I do not accept that you throw against me some whisky you bought at a discount store. At least, let it be a _Mitcher’s Kentucky_ Bourbon!” he added with his unmissable snobbish attitude, pretending to clean his Prussian blue jacket that couldn’t clearly be stained for real.  
  
He was a delusion, after all.  
  
“However, you made a terrible imitation of me.” he added, insulted.  


“So you  _are_ here!” she said, between surprise and relief.

  
“What part of ‘I’m inside you forever’ didn’t you get?” he chuckled, walking towards her until he sat on her desk. “I was just keeping to myself. To feel refused, rejected. It sucks, am I right?” he questioned her and she surprised herself, nodding with her head.

  
“Well, I’ve been acting like that only for five days. You’ve been doing that for months!” he retorted.  


“I had my fucking good reasons!” the detective justified with a punch on the desk, but not so strongly to break it.  
  
“Okay, I admit I’ve never been a boy scout!” he looked within, still sitting there. “But you resorted to such drastic measures!” he grumbled, trying to make her feel guilty and he succeeded.  
  
Jessica preferred to keep silent, but she looked away.  
  
“Hey, you insisted so much for me to come back and now that I’m here you don’t even look at me?” he said, sweetly.

Jessica turned to look at him again.  
  
“That’s better. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong now, baby?” he caressed her only with his voice.  
  
“If, like you said, you’re always inside me, you should already know the answer.” the girl struck back.  


“And I do, indeed, but I want to hear that from you. It can be therapeutic, you know. I may not be the most corporeal listener, but you need to stop holding it in, my darling, it’s not good for you.” he advised her.  


“Do you want me to tell you how I feel? Okay, Killgrave, I feel like shit, everything is fucked up. I care about any fucking one, but they don’t give a fuck about me and at the first chance they abandon me… and if Trish survives, I swear I’m going to kill her for scaring the hell out of me!” Jessica let it out, with a lump in her throat, her eyes teary.  
  
“Hush. Like I said, I’m here to ease your mind. Everything will be fine. I’m sure that blonde, reckless bimbo will survive, the people you pushed away will come back to you. You just have to be patient and you’ll get the control of this situation again. And I’m a connoisseur of control.” he winked at her, making her smile.  


“By the way, tell me, why aren’t you upstairs, searching for comfort in the arms of your muy caliente neighbour?” he teased her, his tone full of jealousy.  
  
“I prefer to leave Oscar out of my mess, he doesn’t deserve that, he needs to care about Vido.” she replied, wiping her tears. “Plus, he wouldn’t understand me. For better or for worse, you’re the one who has always understood me, sometimes words weren’t even necessary. Mind control or not, you’ve always read me like an open book.” she admitted, pleasing him.  
  
“And I always will.” the delusion smiled at her, but then she darkened.  
  
“Why are you here? Why are you trying to make me feel better? Why don’t you hate me?”  


Killgrave stared at her very seriously, but then he burst out laughing.  


“Jessica, I can’t hate you.”  


“I killed you, fuck! This is something someone should have had a bit of feeling about!”  
  
“It’s what I wanted.” he revealed.  
  
“What?” she narrowed her eyes, plumping down on her chair.  
  
He couldn’t have said such a thing for real.  


“Oh, c’mon, can you really picture me rocking on a chair, wrinkly, with white hair… or hairless, even worse, as I hold a grandson on my lap? _Our_ grandson. It’s my fantasy, let me dream.” he stole a smile from her and didn’t even wait for her answer.  
  
“Nope, of course. That’s the way I had to die: splendid, elegant, young and powerful, by the hand of someone even more splendid, younger, more powerful and… no way I can bring myself to say even ‘more elegant’...” he made her smile again, before turning more serious, as he caressed her face. “I wouldn’t have wanted anything different, Jessica. Quite the contrary, it had been an honour. I urged you to do that. I drove you to the brink.”  
  
“Hell yeah, you fucking did!” she growled.  
  
“Even though... “ he added.  
  
“Even though?” she repeated.  
  
“If you had taken specific decisions, maybe now I wouldn’t be only a thought, I would be here by your side, for real, and you would be so proud of me.”  
  
“I could never be proud of a monster!” she struck back, venomous.  
  
“Hell yeah you bloody could, if this monster was changing for the better. You know I’m right, but you didn’t want to believe in me.”  
  
There were some other minutes of relevant silence and then Killgrave broke it.  
There were still important truths she had to face.

  
“Shouldn’t be a monster whoever actually kills? If you think about it, I’ve never done that, I’ve just asked some people to do that, it’s not my fault if I have such a strong influence on people!” he chuckled, earning an icy glare from the girl.  
  
“What about you, Jessica? Have you ever killed someone? Oh, you did kill. It won’t be in chronological order, but I’m going to give you the list.” he announced, with a sadistic smile.  
  
No matter how much he loved Jessica, he also adored upsetting her.  
  
“I don’t want to hear that list…” she protested, but it was too late.  
  
“Reva Connors. Security guard, she owned a bar, too. People mistakenly think a bus hit her, but we both know how things really went. Oh, wait, now also her former husband knows.” he sneered, watching her growing paler.  
  
Those memories still hurt and he wanted to make her suffer, just a little bit.  
  
“Dale Holiday. Prison guard. He abused his power. He tortured physically and physicologically tons of prisoners, including your dear mommy. I’m sure no one will ever miss that twisted shithead, you’ll make the whole mankind a favour. Someone very wise suggested to you to make it look like a suicide and you followed his advice. And the letter, that’s a nice touch!” he praised her.  


“It wasn’t planned, I wanted to deal with him in a very different way!” she growled.  
  
“But you didn’t and deep inside you know it’s okay like this.” he read her like an open book, once more. “And here he comes, my favourite one, he doesn’t need an introduction: Killgrave. Kevin Thompson, if you prefer, but even KK wasn’t so bad.” he managed to make her laugh, despite the situation.  


That was before asking her something crucial.  
  
“Which of these deaths do you wish you hadn’t caused?”   
  
  
‘Reva Connors’ would be the most reasonable answer to give. In that list she was the only innocent one; but Jessica knew it would also be the most hypocrite answer.  
  
If during their last dinner together she had snapped at him, on the edge, when he had hit a nerve, and she had almost smashed a bottle of wine against him… it was only because Jessica was aware that Killgrave had just told her the truth.  
  
During those months together, Killgrave had made her do awful things, he had made her degrade sexually and morally, he had used her for his goals, he had made her dig down on concrete until her fingers bleeded, he had even asked her to punch people, but he had never asked her to kill anyone.  
That had been her own choice and the fact she couldn’t really hide herself behind that ‘Killgrave made me do it’ just like his other victims did and just like she had tried to do… that’s what nagged her restlessly, that’s what made her drink alcohol any day, any time.  
  
Dale Holiday’s death? She could have never felt pity for that wretched prink.  


There was only an answer to give. Someone with whom she wished she could have found other ways not to make him dangerous anymore, if only she hadn’t made that promise.  
  
She recalled the deep state of apathy she had gone into after she had done that extreme gesture.  
She knew that, deep inside, a part of her didn’t want to do that.  
It was time to make that part of her speak.  
  
“Yours.” escaped from the girl’s mouth, after that self-analysis.  


He showed her one of his huge, pleased grins, maybe a little manic, but also so genuine.  
  
“Oh, that’s so sweet from you. Do you miss me that bad, Jessy?”  


“You gave a meaning to my days. Hunting you… hoping to see you rotting in jail… our banters… I miss that. Being focused on hating you made me not think about the rest. I loved hating you.” the detective admitted.  


He stared at her so deeply he could almost see her soul.  


“Oh no, it’s different, my darling: you hate the fact that you love me!”  


Jessica opened her eyes wide, unable to utter a single word to strike back.  


What if he was right? After all, he was a projection of her mind. Her mind couldn’t lie to her. That was a job her heart already did flawlessly.  


“I miss you. I do fucking miss you, Kevin. Are you happy, now?”  
  
She would have confined herself only to telling him she missed him, although she had the feeling he already knew the rest, too.  
  
“What would you want me to say? ‘If you kill yourself you’ll reach me’?” Killgrave tempted her, bringing his mouth to her ear, with the darkest tone his voice could reach.  
  
And then he stared back at her, studying her reactions.  


Jessica stared at him speechless, her mouth half opened, her face paler, her mind overcrowded with thoughts.  


Would killing herself be the solution? To leave her mess behind, to pull the plug, literally, once for all…  


Killgrave definitely changed his expression, showing her the most devoted smile ever.  
  
“Oh no, my love, I want you alive and I’m here to assure myself you also do. We will have time for us and I’ll reserve for us the most beautiful loft with a view of incandescent lava that Hell has to offer; because, don’t lie to yourself, Jessica. You don’t belong to Heaven. You don’t even want to.”  
  
“I don’t, if they don’t have alcohol!” she shrugged, showing her sense of humour that maybe wasn’t so frequent, but Killgrave always managed to draw it out from her.  
  
“You’re lucky if they give you orange juice!” he made her laugh. “Hell is an open bar, instead. You’ll adore it.” he winked at her.  
  
“But there’s no rush for you to reach me. Who knows, I could come back to you.” he added with an enigmatic smile.  


Jessica almost fell from her chair.

  
“What? How? What the fuck are you babbling about?” she grew nervous.  
  
She could accept that she had delusions, that she heard voices in her head, but not that they talked nonsense, that was just too much!  


“Someone here in your neighbourhood knows people who play God…” he replied, more and more mysterious.  


“What the hell does it mean?” she frowned, more and more confused 

  
“You are a detective, aren't you? Find it out.” he teased her, right before disappearing.  
  
Jessica could already see him fading out and she didn’t want that.  
  
“Wait!” she screamed, shocking mostly herself.  


Killgrave became visible again in front of her eyes.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he wondered.  
  
“Stay, Kevin. Don’t leave me alone. Not tonight. Please.”  
  
Kevin was both surprised and flattered by her request.

In that sentence there was so much more than she wanted to admit.  


He beamed, walking closer to her , slowly, until he placed a hand on her shoulder.  


And she felt the touch of his hand on her shoulder for real, just like she had felt those hands on her shoulders that time in the shower. Just like she had felt him caressing her face, previously.  
  
“Why can I feel your hand? You don’t exist, you do only in my mind.”  
  
“You’re feeling it because you do _want_ to feel me, Jessica.” he explained, holding her hand with his free one.  
  
And she felt that, too.  
  
“Kevin, I…”

  
“Sshhh, love. Close your eyes. See me with your heart.”  
  
Jessica followed that advice and she saw him. She saw him caressing her, hugging her, holding her tight.  
She could smell his musky aftershave, she could feel his bristly face against her, her hand in his soft, brown hair.  
  
Jessica needed to know how far she could go, she needed to move the ball forward. She needed certainties. She had a hidden urge to satisfy.  


Jessica cupped Kilgrave’s face. Last time she had done that, he had fallen on the ground, dead, with a snapped neck; but this time she had a very different goal.  


Jessica kissed him, she pressed her full lips against his thinner ones that immediately parted, in a hot invitation. His tongue couldn’t wait for meeting hers once more they followed each other, enwrapped each other, recognized each other again.  


To Kevin it was like coming back home and Jessica could feel anything, every edge of his teeth, the smoothness of his palate, the hotness of his mouth.  
She could listen to every of his breaths. Every of his delighted groans. Every of his moans.  
  
As they were still busy kissing each other, Jessica realised that Kevin was taking her clothes off. Her jeans were ubuttoning under his skillful hands.  
  
She parted from him, jolting, and he took advantage of that small but necessary distance to take off her white T-shirt, throwing it on the floor.  
  
Was it really possible?  
Even Jessica could undress Kevin, she had the confirmation when she took his jacket off.  


Killgrave’s kisses descended on her neck, shoulders, decoltè and in the cavity of her breasts.  


Jessica let him do that, laying on the desk, as he straddled her. She just didn’t want to feel alone, no matter if she was with her worst enemy.  
  
That enemy she had terribly missed. That enemy whom in a twisted and disturbing way she loved.  


“I’m dreaming, am not I?” she asked him as he took her jeans off.  
  
“Does it really matter?” he whispered in her ear, nibbling it in several spots.  
  
She arched back, feeling the relevant hardness in his trousers.  
  
Another thing she could perfectly feel.  
  
“Whatever it is, I just don’t want it to stop.” she pleaded, clinging to his neck.  


“Kiss me, let yourself go and don’t think about anything else.” he murmured, a inch from her mouth.  


Jessica had never been so happy to obey to his orders.  
  
She kissed him irruently, biting his lips and tongue, scratching his nape, the little skin he had bared.  


There were still too many clothes to obstacolate her.  
  
Without breaking their kiss, she wrapped his silky dark blue tie around her fingers, undoing the knot and taking it off him, holding it in her hand, almost as if she wanted a souvenir of that moment.  
  
It was the turn of his purple shirt, with an almost hypnotic pattern. Just like him.  


She didn’t seem so caring anymore. She made all the buttons jump, tearing the fabric in a quick and rough gesture.  


Killgrave burst out laughing. He loved her eagerness and he showed her that with a hungry and violent kiss, with some bites on her oh-so-tempting porcelain skin.  
  
The detective’s hands were tracing the persuader’s chest, with long red scratches, her mouth traced the same path with kisses, hickeys and bites.  
  
To Kevin it was pure bliss.  
  
Jessica switched their roles, straddling him who wore only his boxers.  
  
She straddled him, taking off her panties, before getting rid of the very last garment that separated their bodies.  
She figured out he was more than ready for her.  


She let herself sink into him with just one push.  


Between moans, Kevin still had an important last message to send to her.  
  
“Look for me, Jessica.”  
  
  
  
Jessica opened her eyes again, realising she had closed them for a quite long time.  
She had fallen asleep, fully dressed, her head resting on her desk, uncomfortable but most of all alone.  
There was no one else in that room, only that stain on the wall that seemed to be making fun of her.  
  
“Fuck, it was just a dream.” she thought out loud, almost upset.  
  
Everything had been so vivid, so real, she almost could still inhale his smell over her. 

She could feel something soft in her fist.  
She lowered her gaze.  
Her eyes went wide, her pupils dilated and her heart immediately increased its beats as soon as she figured out what she was holding: a dark blue silky tie.  
  
\--  
THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t ask me or Jessica what the f**k happened, only Killgrave knows and he doesn’t want to confess XD
> 
> About the mysterious thing he babbled, well.. I’ve seen ‘The Defenders’ and I wished something like that could happen with him, too… Well, fanfictions make everything possible!
> 
> I hope you’ll like it, if you left me a tiny comment you would make my day for real, but thanks for your time ^^


End file.
